His and Hers
by SineTimore
Summary: His name, her name - a writing experiment.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **No. Just no. I want them to be mine. Alas, they are not.

**A/N:** Indulge me, dear readers. This is an experiment that popped into my mind and wouldn't leave. Here you will find the "His" portion of the piece. Each section begins with a letter of the character's name. I then associated each letter with the first word that popped into my head relating to the character. This is how my mind works...in weird ways.

* * *

**C**hapters:

The fifth book, _their_ fifth book, is practically writing itself. The origin of this surge of inspiration, he is most aware, traces back to one very specific night three weeks ago. He's, once again, pounding away on his laptop when he hears her voice coming from the bedroom. "Hey, Writer Boy, what'd that keyboard ever do to you?"

"Very funny, Detective. I blame you for this, ya know." He suddenly hears her bare feet clomping across the floor toward him.

"What do you mean, you blame me?" she inquires with confusion. "How is you assaulting your technology _my_ fault?"

"You've filled my creative brain with so much Nikki Heat material lately that these chapters just won't stop. I can't get them out fast enough." He looks to her and offers a small grin before turning his attentions back to the task at hand.

"Well, Castle," she purrs suggestively, "I'll be in here if your hands feel like getting something else out." As she turns to move back into the bedroom, she can hear the sound of his laptop…slam shut.

* * *

**A**pples:

Book readings aren't his favorite events but he knows that they're part of the deal so he grits his teeth and agrees. He wants people to buy the book, of course. This is their thing, his and Kate's, and he's proud of it. Now that they're a _they,_ he's thrilled at the prospect of her joining him this time – having her there with him would certainly make the whole thing bearable.

He finds her reading in the window seat, a most opportune time to invite her to a literary event, he notes with optimism. "Hey, I just got off the phone with Paula. She wants me to do a book reading on Tuesday night and I'm hoping that you'll join me."

Honestly, she'd rather not and she knows that he'd rather not go either. He's looking at her with such hope though, and she has very little power against his charm these days, she's noticed. "Well, I have to work but I can try to meet you there when I'm done."

He smiles excitedly and kisses her cheek. "Okay, one thing though – I seem to remember turning into a blithering idiot the last time you came to one of these things – that dress, my god." He pauses in the glory of the memory and finally manages to continue. "Please don't do that to me again. My poor body can't handle it now that it's been so spoiled by so much you."

"Don't worry, Castle, I'll try my best to dress as chastely as possible" she replies with a grin.

She arrives late and he notices her immediately from across the room. Lucky for him, she's wearing the pants and the jacket that she left in this morning. She obviously didn't have time to go home and change first. Once the applause subsides, he makes his way to her and whispers a relieved "thank you" in her ear. She pulls him close. "Don't thank me yet, Castle."

"What do you mean?"

"Who knew that going commando could feel so liberating?" she purrs with a wink.

His stunned brain can't form coherent thought but he does manage to squeak out one word: "apples."

* * *

**S**cotch:

She wonders why they don't spend more time here. It's important enough to him that he actually bought it and it's beautiful, as bars go. She's sitting by herself, watching him caress that 135 year old bottle of scotch for which he has such admiration. It's foolish, she knows, but she feels jealous, here, in this moment. Since they've finally allowed themselves to explore _that_ side of their relationship, she often catches herself lost in thoughts of his touch and his taste and his…everything.

He's approaching her now, having placed his distraction back on the shelf in its place. She notices and appreciates that his hands are now free. He leans over the bar to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Something I can get for you, Detective?" he inquires, playing bartender with apparent delight.

"Yeah," she breathes, "you can get out from behind that bar, take me somewhere, and pretend I'm that bottle you were just seducing."

"Wuhhh? I…." he stammers, obviously confused.

"Take me home, Castle. This isn't the place for the reenactment I have in mind."

* * *

**T**oys:

Kate is so behind on case paperwork that she's at the precinct on a Saturday catching up. Alexis is studying for exams all weekend at the dorms and his mother is off on a spa weekend upstate. He's bored. He thinks about writing but he's had a good, healthy week of it and his brain needs a break. As he paces the loft, the laser tag gear catches his eye. He never did get around to putting it away after Alexis went back to school earlier in the week. The 'fun closet' is a mess and the idea of cleaning today doesn't thrill him but he dives in anyway. He has no idea how much time he'll have to kill until Kate comes home and rescues him from his ennui.

A few hours later, the loft is strewn with toys. Somehow, he can't imagine how, cleaning has become playing. The sound of the key in the lock distracts him from the gadget in his hand which makes an unfortunate sound signaling the apparent end of that round. Kate takes three steps through the door and surveys what used to be the living room.

"I can't leave you alone for two minutes, can I?"

"First, I wish you wouldn't. Second, some of this stuff is _so_ cool! I forgot that I had all of this. You wanna play, Detective?"

"Not really my cup of tea, Castle. Besides, after my day, all I'd like to do is go sit in a hot bath and do nothing."

"Fine" he replies sounding dejected. "Okay, you go take your bath and I'll clean this stuff up." He approaches her and places a soft kiss against her lips. "See what happens when you're gone? I missed you."

"I missed you too. Now, get to work." She makes her way across the room and turns back to him. "Oh, and Castle, maybe when you're done we can play with some of _my_ toys…they're in the bedroom."

After picking his chin up off of the floor, he succeeds in cleaning up his mess by the time her bath fills with water.

* * *

**L**oft:

He loves it when she uses the word 'home' - now it means him and them and if he has his way, forever. It's all still fairly new. She's only been here for a few weeks, long enough to have claimed this drawer and that side. They're developing a rhythm, a dance, and he's relishing every minute of it.

It's quieter in the loft these days with Alexis at the dorms and his mother spending more time at the studio. He knows she's doing it intentionally, for them. She's as transparent as cellophane. He does so love his mother.

They're taking full advantage of the time alone, christening every surface in the place that'll support their bodies. He's most grateful now to live in such a large apartment, especially one with thick walls. Kate's not exactly shy about expressing her…agreement – yet another reason for gratitude.

She's taken to texting him to let him know when she's on her way. He quite likes it, the visual rather than the aural – he can savor it until she arrives. He's grown to favor this part of the day since he's been away from the precinct finishing the book. He loves the lingering kiss and the minute-too-long hug at the door, or against it, whichever. He wants to hear about her cases and her paperwork and her ham sandwich for lunch. He wants all of it. Every day.

He hears the key in the lock and the heels kick off where she stands. "Oh honey, I'm hhhommmme" she sings.

He makes his way to her and wraps his body around hers. "Yes, you are."

* * *

**E**xes:

He so wants to believe that there's a chance that Kate could someday be his wife. She told him early on that she's the "one and done" type - he knows that she wants it. For so many years he's dreaded the thought of marrying again, for most obvious reasons. He's done it twice and failed twice – or maybe it's failed him. He's never really taken the time to be certain. Ryan's wedding put the thought in his head, though, and now that he has her he simply can't shake it. He wants her…forever.

He's certain that he had wanted his exes forever – hadn't he? Perhaps he had convinced himself of that because it was easier to believe that than it was to confront all of the reasons why he shouldn't. Now he has two divorces to show for all of it. He imagines this doesn't instill much confidence in the woman he now loves. He wants to be different for her. He _knows_ he's different now…because of her.

She so wants to believe that there's a chance that Castle could someday be her husband, her "one and done". She's been afraid to think too much about it, to invest too much time in the thought. He's done it twice and failed twice – or maybe it wasn't him at all, maybe it was Gina and Meredith. He hasn't opened up much about them so she's been left to wonder. There was a moment at Ryan's wedding, though, when he shared a thought with her. He wants it or he wants to want it. She knows that she wants him…forever.

She's certain that she's never felt this way before. That must add weight somehow, right? She would never allow herself to fall this far if she didn't know he would be there with her. She was broken for so long. It was this hard for a reason. He's still here for a reason. She wants to be different for him. She _knows_ that she's different now…because of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Once again, to reiterate, I have little to no business writing fic let alone 22 episodes of a hit television show. **

**A/N: Well, here's part 2 of my name experiment fic. I must tell you that 'Beckett' was far more difficult than 'Castle' (which sounds about right, if you think about it). Hope you manage to find some enjoyment in it. As always, thanks to the readers and the reviewers. Your loyalty surprises and delights me.**

* * *

**B**ike:

The plan is to leave the loft by 3pm to try and beat some of the weekend traffic heading out of town. When his phone rings at 2:50pm, he knows it's not good news. "Hey, where are you?" he inquires though he's almost certain of the unfortunate answer to follow.

"Hey, I'm sorry. We just caught a body and Gates is insisting that I head over there, something about it being potentially 'sensitive'."

"Ya know, these killers sure know how to ruin a guy's day" he huffs selfishly.

"I'll be sure to convey your sympathies, Castle." She rolls her eyes but feels the exact same level of frustration that he does. This trip is all worked out, settled, theirs, and she's been looking forward to it. "I'm not sure how long I'll be. Why don't you head out and I'll meet you there as soon as I can, hopefully tonight."

"This sucks. I was really excited about playing a game of 'Eye Spy: Castle Edition' in the car."

"Yeah, Castle, that's at the top of my disappointment list too." She seethes sarcasm but he's too busy pouting to take notice. "Go on, Castle, I'll get there …and when I do, I'll try my best to make it up to you."

Her babysitting duties at the crime scene come to an end a few bitter hours later. She's can't wait for the next 100 solitary miles on the road. Her bike offers her a peace and a freedom that she doesn't let herself experience often enough.

With the tedium of the day's hurdles long gone from her mind, she arrives in the Hamptons more excited to see him than when she left the city. Her thoughts have wandered to him, to them, many times along the journey and as she settles the bike in the driveway, she sees the front door open with a flourish. He steps out of the pale light of the foyer towards her, smiling from ear to ear. "I'm so glad you're finally here" he beams, placing a lingering kiss to her cheek.

"Hi" she purrs, noticing his obvious delight at her arrival. "Well, well, eye spy a happy author."

* * *

**E**lephants:

They're right here, every day, watching over her from where they sit on her desk. Each time she takes notice of them now, she feels a warmth in her heart. It hasn't always been this way - for so long they brought melancholy, memories of things gone, a reminder of questions with no answers.

Her mother had collected them on a trip to Africa after graduating from college and she had gifted them to Kate in high school, explaining in a beautiful letter how their strength and wisdom and intelligence reminded her so much of her daughter. She now keeps that letter rolled up and at rest in the trunk of one of her elephant guardians and reads it from time to time when she's in a particularly difficult day.

Those occur with less frequency now, since her mother's case has been put to final rest. She's aware that her profession guarantees that she'll always have tough days – so does her heart. She knows all too well what those left behind go through and how powerful empathy can be.

Something is different inside her now though; she feels it…the calm. It's still there, of course, the hunger for justice - it's why she came back, why she's still here. Letting go of that will require more than a stamped file in a dusty box. She knows.

So they remain here with her, those gifts from long ago. All of those things that her mother saw in her, Kate still wants to be…still _is_…and she's grateful to have them now as a reminder of things not lost but once again found.

* * *

**C**oats:

It's one of his favorite moments of the day, his first glimpse of her at the precinct or at a crime scene or anywhere else for that matter. He's grown quite fond of her style over the years. He notices the curve of her jeans, the lines of her leather jackets, the breadth of her shoulders hidden beneath perfectly tailored blazers. But the coats – the coats make his pulse quicken and his heart stutter.

Ever since that Halloween party, he hasn't been able to get the fantasy out of his head. Lord knows, her mere arrival had been excitement enough. He had been certain that she wasn't going to show up and, of course, that's exactly what she had wanted him to think. As she stood in front of him with her hand on the knot of her coat, she knew precisely the effect she was having on him, and once she uttered the words "I was going for sexy", he was done for. Though her reveal had proven to be anything but sexy, the seed had been planted.

Her text came through later than he had anticipated; he had expected her for dinner but she had been stuck at a crime scene with the boys. They have the loft to themselves tonight with Alexis staying at school to study and Martha off cavorting with friends. When he hears the soft knock at the door, he hastily makes his way from the office. As he pulls the door open, his first glimpse is of her face – her most exquisite face, framed by loose and wild hair. His eyes continue downward to take all of her in and he finds himself feeling flustered at the sight of her in that same long, black trench. No, not flustered. Desirous.

"Hhhhh…hey" he manages to stammer as he grants her entry.

She moves slowly past him while keeping her eyes fixated on his. "Sorry I'm late" she says as she turns back towards him and stops her movement.

Not paying enough attention to what his body is doing, he nearly runs into her as she stands before him with her hand, once again, on the sash of her coat. He realizes that he's staring – as does she – and yet he can't stop it – and she doesn't want him to. When polite finally shows up, he offers to take the coat from her. She thanks him with a pleasantry and as the fabric opens, it reveals nothing but perfect, milky white skin from neck to foot. His awe is countered only by her grin.

"Given the hour, Castle, we might want to skip right to dessert."

* * *

**K**ickboxing:

She can never seem to find enough time in her hours and days and weeks to try and counter all of the frustrations that her…everything piles upon her. She's thankful, to put it mildly, for all of the help that Castle has recently provided on this front but even that comes with its own set of aggravations. More than one evening has ended in an argument about whose apartment or who they should and shouldn't tell or how quickly their relationship should go wherever it's going.

This day at the precinct has been the longest that she can remember in recent weeks. It started with a body and ended with a body and somewhere in between there was a body to deal with. Her head is spinning (and throbbing), she hasn't eaten since she can't even remember and her body is exhausted but she needs _something_. Castle is off doing a lecture and to be perfectly honest she feels relieved, more for him than for her. She's almost certain that this night would not go well for him if he was around her in the state that she's in. As she prepares her bag and heads towards the elevator to finally rid herself of this place for a few hours, she pauses at the stairs in thought before ascending them, slowly as a result of her day. She knows exactly what she needs.

It's not a solution but kickboxing is a nice Band-Aid to her woes and it's never let her down before. She is alone in the gym tonight and grateful for it. Everything that she has left in her is transferred to that bag without guilt or question or repercussion. Dripping with sweat and nearly out of breath, she breaks to check the time on her father's watch and is shocked to find that over an hour has passed. It's not that she has somewhere she has to be, she simply can't believe that her body hasn't yet given out on her. Well, Castle _is_ always assuring her that she's stronger than she thinks.

She's missed his text during tonight's cleanse – that's truly what it was. She feels calm now, at some peace with the day. It hits her, rather unexpectedly, just how much wants to see him and she replies to his waiting message, "your place or mine?"

* * *

**E**nough:

She's tired of it. She's tired of living under the weight of this self-imposed sentence. She nearly died today and while not a new experience in a life dedicated to righting wrongs, this time she was alone. As she sits here in the blinding rain, in the place where months ago she had asked him to wait for her, she remembers every second of time she spent dangling from the building's ledge. There were no thoughts of Maddox, of Lockwood, of Montgomery, of her mother; she thought only of him, Richard Castle, the man who had walked out of her life hours before because she hadn't been strong enough to stop him.

For the first time in as long as she can remember, in this moment, it's all enough – her mother's murder unsolved, a conspiracy of killers unexposed, years of time spent keeping everyone at arm's length. She's had enough of all of it. The swing next to her sits empty, _his_ swing, and she stares at it unblinking as if willing it is going to make him appear. He's not coming. Like her, he's had enough.

Countless city blocks and several inches of driving rain later, she finds herself outside of his building. She isn't entirely certain how she wound up here, only that her unintended actions must have reason. Pacing the sidewalk, she realizes what she must look like to anyone watching and she forces herself inside to the lobby – to what, she's not sure.

She's tired, she's wet to the bone, and she's desperate to find the strength to take that elevator up to him. She adds it to her list, time. She's had enough time – time to know him, time to trust him, time to fall in love with him. He left today, taking all of that time with him. She wants it. Reaching for her phone, she dials his number, having little idea what words to speak if he should answer. She knows he won't. He doesn't.

It's what she needs. It's what she needs to get her into that elevator.

It's enough to get her to his door…

* * *

**T**akeout:

"You know, Kate, one of these days you're going to have to reveal your secret." His curiosity breaks her concentration as she does her best to keep the Chinese food more on the plates and less on the table. They're enjoying yet another meal that neither of them has slaved over, unless waiting on hold for six minutes counts. He can't say that he minds terribly. He loves spending time with her in her corner of the world and he does his best to balance out the Styrofoam and aluminum tins in her fridge with Tupperware full of homespun concoctions in his own.

"And what secret might that be, Castle?" She realizes the can of worms she's opening by simply acknowledging his comment but the soft light and his smile and his smell and his...everything are too distracting to keep her fully alert.

"Well, now that I've had the immense and repeated pleasure of seeing your, uh, body of evidence, I'm wondering how it is you manage to look like _that_ when you eat stuff like _this _every night?" He's fully aware that he's now ogling and he's entirely unapologetic.

Placing the carton she's just emptied on the table, she cleans her finger with her tongue slowly and, if his slack-jawed face is any indication, effectively. She inches up out of her crouching position on the throw pillow and crawls over to him with purpose. "If I had to guess, Castle, I'd say it's simply a case of good genes..." He seems unsatisfied with her rather clinical response and ready to interrupt until she brings her finger to his lips to quiet him. "Or maybe it's this new vigorous workout regimen."

"I didn't know you had a new workout regimen. How did I not know this?"

She slides her hands up his chest to his shoulders and straddles his legs, drawing his body to hers. "I'd be more than happy to refresh your memory, Castle, _after_ we eat."

* * *

**T**ub:

The irony isn't lost on her…stepping into a hot bath while clutching a copy of _Frozen Heat_. She has an early copy, of course. Castle learned his lesson in that regard. It's her favorite way to end a day full of chaos – well, her second favorite – a book, a bottle, and a bath. He isn't coming over tonight, or so she assumes, something about Martha and a favor for her acting class. This isn't the first night that they've spent apart but it's the first night in a few weeks and she chides herself for her exaggerated disappointment. _It's just one night, Kate_.

She's pruning from the water, here at an hour into her bliss, but she can't put the book down. Doesn't want to. It's sexier this time, this version of Heat and Rook, now that she knows, has touched and seen and tasted. The others had certainly affected her, made her wonder, but the reality of them, now, enhances the experience to a palpable level.

As the freshly added hot water climbs up her body from her toes to her chest, she lets her eyes close, not in fatigue but in daydream. The noise she hears jolts her from that delicious place and sends the water up and over the rim of the tub creating a small pool at her slippers. The intense vulnerability that floods her body in the seconds before she hears…"Kate?"…is soothed by the sound of his most unexpected voice.

"Castle?" she calls, directing him to her location. He arrives at her bathroom door and peeks inside awaiting her invitation to enter. "Geez, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here? I thought you were helping your mother tonight?"

He stares for a moment, she notices, taking in her form amidst the bubbles, most of which have now dissipated, to his great delight. "I was, um, I did, though I'm still not sure how exactly. I'm beginning to think I'm the most underpaid babysitter in New York. Somewhere between act one and act two, I saw my opportunity and I seized it. I am sure that she's noticed by now that I'm gone, though…"

"You ditched your own mother, Castle?" she interrupts feigning shock. "Wow, that speaks volumes about your character, you know. If I had known this _before_…"

"Oh, please, you wanted me here and you know it. Using my newest as a substitute, I see" he teases with a grin, having spotted his novel on the table next to the tub.

"You're right, Castle, I do want you here" she says playing along. He takes a step or two closer to her in anticipation of her next thought. "I could really use a refill. Would you be a doll and pour me another glass so I don't have to get out?"

His expression is one of utter disappointment and dejection. That's certainly not where he expected that she was going. "Of course, yeah" he says taking the glass from the table. "I'll be right back."

"Oh, and when you get back, I'd really like to discuss page 76 in greater detail…_much_ greater detail."

He turns back to her from the doorway with a most pleased look on his face. "Looking most forward to that, Detective."

"Oh, you have no idea."


End file.
